


Moving In

by chimaeracabra



Category: Bucky - Fandom, james barnes - Fandom
Genre: Choking, F/M, Fluff, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: One fine spring day, Bucky helps his girlfriend move into her new house.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3am. Why do I do this to my brain?

            "Damn it, Becky—I'm gonna strap you to a goddamned chair if you don't stop picking up those boxes," Bucky warns, and as Becky steps towards the ramp at the opening of the moving truck behind Steve, she can see that it looks like her boyfriend is only _half_ joking. She smiles, trying to sidestep him. Bucky blocks her way and pulls the weighted carboard from her hands.

            "You know, I kinda like the sound of that," Becky says seductively, "You can strap me to whatever you want _whenever_ you want." Bucky's cheeks flush red a moment and he glances over his shoulder at Steve following Sam through the front door with a couch in their grasp, having wondered whether they were in earshot. Becky shifts her weight to her right hip, forgetting about her sprained ankle, and winces quietly.

            "Oh, _really_?" Bucky responds just as seductively, "Maybe later, baby." He grins, turning back to Becky and eying her with concern. Becky catches him noticing her reacting to her own pain and she smiles, reaching for the box in his hands. He cocks an eyebrow, not letting it go.

            "It's _my_ new house—"

            "Yeah, and that sprained ankle doesn't care," he explains, leaning down to stare her in the eyes, smiling playfully without teeth, the box he's holding keeping him inches away from meeting her lips. He sighs, placing the box on the floor of the moving truck and hopping down out of it.

            "Come here," he says, looking up at Becky with disappointment. Several times, he had tried to get her to just sit on the swing in the front lawn under that big tree, but Becky had insisted on helping to bring everything in. She had to have things placed just so, even if they weren't out of the shipping boxes yet. Steve had been on her side, too, telling Bucky to stop treating his woman like she couldn't handle a few boxes. Bucky knew that Steve had meant well, but he didn't like watching her limp back out of the house and towards the truck when he knew he and Steve alone—excluding Sam—could have everything done in an hour or two.

            Becky limps towards Bucky and he pulls her down out of the truck, earning a small gasp from her. His new, life-like bionic limb isn't cold to the touch as Becky frequently imagined the old metal one to be, but its strength is just as salient; Bucky had picked her up as if she were a deck of cards rather than a 5'7" 140-pound person, not that 140 pounds was _ever_ something quite heavy for James to lift with or without the enhanced limb.

            He smiles at the swing set in the front yard, carrying Becky towards it bridal style. He recalls her sitting there almost two months ago, late in winter, pushing her on it while a realtor told them the property was going to cost a bit upwards of six-hundred grand. Becky had been saving up for this since way before James even met her in a chilly lab nearly a year and a half earlier, when she was the first face he saw before going into a deep sleep. When he awoke from the most meaningful surgery of his life, his arm looked almost _exactly_ as he had tried to picture it decades ago, before he lost it. Ever since, it had felt as if Becky was _meant_ to be the one to give that back to him.

            "Alright, you're gonna sit here and you're gonna watch me, Steve, and Sam set up this house. You are not to move _at all_ ," Bucky explains, Becky grasping the thick ropes of the swing set, and Bucky can't help smiling, "Until we're done and I come back out here to carry you in. Understood?"

            "Yes, sergeant," Becky says seductively. He can't help liking the sound of that and he kneels there to kiss her. When he moves to stand, Becky grasps handfuls of his hair, deepening the kiss. He moans longingly, wishing they were done with all the boxes, the furniture, and alone in Becky's new king size bed in the master bedroom.

            "Slacking!" Sam yells from the short distance. Bucky starts, and Becky laughs, releasing him. He's blushing madly as she glances past him to find Steve shaking his head and laughing, heading back into the truck to retrieve more shit. Bucky rolls his eyes.

            "I'll be back," he states, sighing. He stands and turns around, but not before telling Becky again not to move. Becky likes it when James orders her around. It always made for great foreplay. She watches him jog back to the moving truck and disappear inside. When James comes back out with two boxes in both hands, he glances over at Becky, as if to make sure she had not disobeyed his direct orders, and he winks, causing her to look away shyly, unable to fight her smiles. Not in a million years could Becky imagine herself being in the kind of relationship where she _still_ got butterflies a year after being with a guy, and all he has to do is look her way to cause this sensation.

            Bucky makes somewhat of a fuss over his weight set, wanting to unload it himself in the room that Becky had officially designated as the home workout room. A few more rounds of items later and the truck is empty.  Bucky starts towards Becky with a tall glass of iced water. She had ordered that new fridge prior to moving in and realizes that Bucky had gone out of his way to open one of the kitchen boxes just to get that glass. As he hands the drink to her, she's surprised he hadn't made it for himself. He only smiles and kneels at her height. She places a hand to his heated forehead. He's not visibly sweaty, just hot.

            "I don't need this," she says, " _you_ do." She presses the glass to his lip and he takes a sip. She remembers being surprised by just how gentle and caring Bucky is. People usually steered clear of him; his bigness frequently creates the illusion that he's much tougher than he really is. In fact, he's sweeter than anyone Becky has ever known. She passes a hand over his forehead, sweeping back stray strands of brown hair that had come loose of the ponytail at the back of his head. The April sun shines down into his face, causing Bucky to squint. The sun had moved so that the tree's shade no longer protects everything beneath it. Bucky only drinks half the glass before taking it and placing it in the grass near Becky.

            "Steve and Sam are ordering some takeout. I wasn't sure you wanted them around much longer—"

            "That's _great_ ," Becky beams, rubbing Bucky's shoulders.

            "You're not hungry?" she asks in disbelief, cocking a brow. James's appetite was massive most of the time. He glances to the side and smiles suggestively.

            "Yeah…but I kinda want them to amscray. All that talk about strapping you to chairs gave me some ideas." To Bucky's disappointment, Becky throws her head back and laughs.

            "Tell them to stay—and order Thai. I could go for some food about now," Becky admits. James sighs and picks Becky up without warning. She only laughs at what looks like real disappointment in his expression. He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

            "It's not funny. I'm mad at you. Sam's gettin' on my nerves, too," Bucky grumbles. It had taken a while before Bucky and Sam could go so far as to call each other "friends," But Becky had always encouraged the relationship, especially considering how close Sam had become with Steve. Becky nuzzles her face into Bucky's neck.

            "You're super cute when you're _'mad'_ ," she states, kissing him and causing him to smile.

            "Oh yeah? See how funny it is later," he warns, lowering his voice and turning the corner into the living room to place Becky on the couch where Steve and Sam are setting up the TV. Sam pauses, crosses his arms, and cocks a brow with an entertained expression lighting his warm face.

            " _Damn_ , she got you on a leash, man."

Bucky glares at Sam halfheartedly.

            "She's got a _sprained ankle_. I'm just being a good boyfriend," he explains. Bucky rolls up his sleeves with clenched fists.

            "Relax, Sam. It's this thing called chivalry, which most women would tell you is dead these days," Steve explains, quickly intercepting what he knows might turn into a legitimate argument between Bucky and Sam.

            "Look, if you're _still_ mad about your Chevy, that was _years_ ago—"

            "Alright! Found a menu for a place that delivers," Steve pipes up, standing square in the middle of Bucky and Sam, the humor slowly diffusing from Sam's face.

            "Well, what is it? Becky's in the mood for Thai," Bucky mutters, controlling himself and walking out of the room before Steve can give him an answer. Steve glances at her.

            "Chinese, actually."

            "That'll do," Becky states, watching as Sam positions the TV screen a bit more to the right on the stand. He turns it on and hands her the remote.

            "Thanks a lot," she says genuinely, "I really appreciate you guys helping out today. It went so much faster." Steve nods cordially.

            "It's no trouble," Sam reassures, "Anything for a friend's girlfriend." And his smile tells her that he doesn't _really_ harbor any harsh feelings towards Bucky, even though he _did_ pull the wheel clear off his Chevy that one time. Bucky returns with an armful of beers, and Steve dials to order the food. Bucky pops open one of the Seagram's and hands it to Sam with a toothless smile. Whilst continuing to order, Steve keeps a keen eye on the pair, glancing from Sam to Bucky, and back and forth again.

            "Nah, the car is old news. I wasn't trying to piss you off, man," Sam says coolly. Bucky nods and they do that awkward half-hug-handshake thing men are so frequently accustomed to. Bucky wasn't going to start fighting Sam about old things today, not when Becky was supposed to be super excited about her new home. She had been living with her sister the entire time Bucky dated her, and it was such a big deal to her to finally have her very own place. Bucky meant to behave himself. Luckily, Steve was right there to ensure this. He was always breaking up little arguments between Sam and Bucky, sometimes stating that they bickered like an elderly married couple. That always got them to stop.

            "Food should be here in thirty minutes," Steve announces after glancing at his watch.

            "Would you look at that—the game's on," Sam explains, just as Becky's about to change the channel. Sam plops down beside her and she places the remote on the coffee table, shrugging.

            "You wanna watch this, Beck?" Bucky asks, slipping beside her.

            "Sure."

Bucky figures she couldn't care less, but Steve is already engulfed in the baseball game in front of them, taking his seat beside Sam. Bucky snakes an arm around Becky after opening the rest of the beers, handing one to her and to Steve. She kisses him on the cheek and his heart skips a beat.

            A couple of cartons of egg foo young and vegetable lo mein later, Sam and Steve decide they should leave and let Becky finish setting up the place; she had literally dozed off during the game and conversation, her head heavy on Bucky's shoulder. He had been half paying attention, playing with her hair absently. Bucky carefully escapes out from under Becky, placing the couch's brand new cushion under her head, and showing Steve and Sam the door.

            "Can't believe you get to live up in this thing," Sam says, stepping down the front stairs, gawking at Becky's house.

            "Yeah, so long as she's fooled into being with me," Bucky jokes. Sam laughs and punches him in the chest playfully, "I mean, 'cause you both know I'm such an _awful_ guy deep down."

            "Naw, that was cute, man," Sam continues, "Carrying her around like you just got married, catering to her every need. She digs you." At this, Bucky smiles, blushing and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Steve laughs, glad they're not arguing for once.

            "It was a pleasure helping out. Tell Becky to call if you guys need help moving anything else." Bucky feigns insult, rolling back his sleeve and flexing a bicep.

            "What, you think I couldn'ta handled that whole truck on my own? All I needed you two for was to speed up the process." Steve laughs, hugging him, and following Sam to his car. Bucky stands in the driveway, waving goodbye. The sun is just about down and the air is chilly, causing the hair at the back of his neck to rise. He sighs and goes to close up the truck he had rented to help Becky move her things from her sister's and her mom's house, figuring he'll return it the following day. He walks up the front steps and back into the room where Becky is still asleep on the couch; he frequently forgot that alcohol makes her tired. Anytime they'd hang out and he threw back a few beers, he'd find her struggling to stay awake after just one. He leans in the doorway a moment, grinning and watching her.

            He closes the shades and spots a brand new chair sitting in the corner, and eying Becky, he can't help smiling impishly. She _did_ say that he could strap her to whatever he wanted to, _whenever_ he wanted to, and the mood strikes him suddenly. Bucky quickly and quietly disappears up to the master bedroom, fumbling to rip the packing tape off of his boxes of clothing. He throws shit out onto the bed until he comes across a few of his belts and ties. He laughs to himself. Becky is the kind of woman he could do this sort of thing to and get the reaction he wants. He knows she'll still be into it, even if he interrupts her nap.

            The sensation of being totally exposed wakes Becky up. Her eyes adjust to the dark and she looks around. Thinking to stand up, she realizes that her arms and legs are tethered to something, and pretty damn tightly so. The only limb free is her right leg, as she extends it into the darkness.

            "J-James?" she calls, totally confused for a handful of seconds, until the lamp flickers on and she finds Bucky sitting in an armchair in front of her in nothing but his boxers, looking like he's about to eat her alive and utterly happy about it. Becky glances down to find that he had removed all of her clothes. She wonders how exactly he managed this feat without that waking her, _and_ managed to get her sitting in an upright position in this chair. She glances at her sides to find her wrists strapped to the chair with what appears to be the Hugo Boss ties she'd bought him for Christmas the previous year. He had yet to actually wear them, and _this_ is how he wanted to use them?! Instead of being angry, Becky admires his work strapping her left ankle to the chair with a leather belt.

            She swings her right leg before looking at Bucky and laughing really hard. He keeps a straight face.

            "I didn't tell you to laugh," he states lowly, in a voice that is quite alien from the Bucky she's used to. It was…lethal in some way, as if he was about to do something very serious. Realizing he's telling her not to ruin it, she pipes down. And for an instant, his expression changes to that familiar sweet one, the one full of concern. She had been frightened for just a moment, until she remembers what she told him earlier.

            "I didn't do your other ankle so it won't hurt worse," he says. He sits to his full height, scanning Becky over from head to toe. The blood rushes to her chest as Bucky stares dead between her open legs for a moment. He stands, and she can see that he's already halfway excited. He starts towards her and her heart races. She struggles against the homemade restraints. _Damn_ , he didn't even give her a safe word? She fights a smile as Bucky disappears behind her.

            "We both know if I wanted you to be able to get up, I wouldn't've tied you down so tight," he says, and she gasps as he grips a handful of her hair and pulls her head back slightly.

            "So be a good girl and sit still, 'cause I'm the one in charge right now."

She looks at Bucky upside down. He stares down her body, passing his hands over the mounds that are her perky breasts, causing the nipples to erect as he grazes them roughly. Becky bites her lips and closes her eyes, feeling Bucky kiss her forehead and inhale deeply against her skin. One of his hands cups her throat and squeezes the windpipe a bit. She turns her head against his wrist, grinning and moaning without breath. He squeezes a little bit harder. And suddenly, his touch is gone and she looks about, unable to see him. She can hear him taking off his boxers, and he walks back around in front of her.

            "Bucky—"

            "Shhh." He presses a finger to her lips, kneeling in front of her, his eyes scanning her naked figure with excitement. She realizes then that he's going to do what he wants and she doesn't really have a choice. She watches him push a handful of his hair back before pulling her knees apart, as she had clutched them shut while he assaulted her breasts moments prior. Bucky rests his chin between her knees atop the chair, blowing a cool breeze at her most sensitive region, and she gasps, struggling. Bucky's hands clasp her knee caps roughly.

            "Stop moving," he says, sparing her a domineering glance. He kisses her inner thighs playfully, and Becky tries to hold still. All she can do is watch him. He pulls a strong arm around her middle, forcing her closer to the edge of the seat, until her butt just about falls over, had it not been for his waiting palm, and he dives headlong between her thighs, laughing there a moment, making her wait. She struggles to get control of her hands, wanting to grasp his brawny shoulders, but Bucky ignores her desperation to move, kissing her womanhood, at first just pecking teasingly, gradually sucking on a lip before inching his tongue between the slit and messily slopping at her.

            He deliberately ignores her clit to create more desperation, occasionally stealing a cool glance at Becky's face just to see how mad he's driving her. Her breathing intensifies and he pauses with his lips and tongue to push her thighs apart, as she had begun to try and shut them again. She's biting her lips, seemingly unwilling to give in and moan. Bucky grins, shaking his head slowly before continuing, this time tending to her clit and making an effort to suck at it so hard that Becky shrieks. He feels her start to get wet and pauses to grin up at her without teeth.

            "Fuck me," she gasps, begging, slouched down in the chair where Bucky had pulled her.

            "I'll fuck you when I'm ready to fuck you. Until then, I'm going to make you suffer," he promises, all the while slowly twisting his index and middle finger inside her, turning them towards the ceiling and massaging her roughly. He rests his mouth on her knee, breathing against it, and Becky detects an increase in the rate of his hot breath hitting her skin. His chest is growing redder by the second, and she briefly catches a glimpse of his stone solid length, standing at attention against his taut stomach.

            Bucky's fingers reach a speed that causes Becky to pant, and he smiles against her knee, watching the small puddle of arousal pool up against the upholstery. She'll be angry later when she realizes the mess he's caused on the new furniture. But it only excites him more. Truth is, he's holding back himself, but as he practically bludgeons Becky to orgasm, it becomes harder and harder to ignore his own need. He can't ignore the copious drops of precum spilling out of him and onto the hardwood floor. He pulls his lips off of Becky's knee to watch her contorting in pleasure in the chair. Once she calms down enough to focus on him, he holds her right leg in a grip that's nearly too tight for comfort.

            "I'm gonna untie you now, but only if you'll still be a good girl and do as I say."

At this point, Becky is sated. She nods with little energy. Bucky unties her leg from the chair, followed by her hands, but she realizes that he had tied her up so that his ties are still attached to her wrists.

            "Get on your knees," he says, one hand encircling his length. Becky grins, staying seated.

            "You heard me," Bucky adds. Becky playfully kicks him in the chest with her left foot. Bucky easily grabs her ankle, holding it firmly against the floor.

            "I said, 'get on your knees,'" he repeats darkly. Becky's lips curl slyly and she spits in his face. Bucky grabs her out of the chair, pulling her in front of him, knocking the seat over in the process. He slaps her ass hard and grabs both the ties so that her arms are still out of her control. He jams up against her, entering her precisely, and starts to pound away at a speed that is almost unbearable. Becky liked rough sex, and he knew she'd be able to take it. Her moaning fills the otherwise empty house, music to Bucky's ears. He pulls the ties back harder so that she's constricted, everything under his control. He pauses to release her arms a minute or so later, reaching beneath Becky to fondle her with his simultaneous thrusts. She drops her head against the hardwood, reaching over his hands desperately. Bucky grabs the ties again, restricting her from touching him.

            "I didn't say you could touch that," he says, slowing his thrusts to a harder, slower pace, one that causes Becky to feel his every inch as deeply as will allow. He hears her laugh a little bit. He starts picking up the pace again, starting to lose himself. He releases the ties, cradling Becky in his grasp, riding out his orgasm. He still holds her so she can't touch him. Warmth rushes out over him and onto the floor underneath them. Bucky continues to moan, trying to catch his breath. For Becky, that was batshit crazy. Bucky had never been so dominating before, but she liked it. At first, it had kind of scared her to wake up tied to that chair, but as Bucky flips her over, pinning her to the floor to kiss the hell out of her, all she can do is smile.

            "I hope I didn't hurt you," he breathes,  loosening his grip on her wrists. Becky stretches her leg, the ankle still sprained, and she winces. Bucky's eyes widen and he starts to untie his ties from her wrists hastily. Her hands had actually begun to lose feeling.

            "Oh, no. Not at all," she promises, "It's just my ankle." Bucky blushes slightly, pulling Becky into a sitting position and placing his Hugo Boss ties on the chair behind him. She just looks at him a moment, still catching her breath.

            "You're _insane_ , James," she says. He laughs and shrugs.

            "What? All I did is take you up on that offer." She doesn't regret a thing.


End file.
